on thursday night i headed to lincoln center to meet a friend and go to the circus.

yes, lincoln center. the great arts mecca of new york city (or one of them, at least).

and there nestled between the metropolitan opera house and alice tully hall and avery fisher and juilliard--right amidst all the towering white building made of granite or some such is the temporary white canvas of the big apple circus.

when kathy and i arrived and the show began we both quickly decided that perhaps we should have gotten a drink first. there was something a bit depressing about it all. the empty seats--the sense that the entire production was a bit worn around the edges. the feeling that the art form itself was struggling to find a foothold--to adapt to these modern times.

and yet given enough time and enough stragglers the tent began to fill with not only warm bodies, but the squeals of children. and if the squeals of children can't totally undo you, well then, i'm not sure what to tell you.

kathy and i ended up squealing a bit ourselves, or at least laughing deeply for a good two hours. there was nothing i loved so much as the dogs and horses and goats, i would go each night for that alone.

oh, to see a goat ride a horse--if you've not seen this at least once in your life: amend, amend at once!!

all that being said, i suppose there's something to learn from the circus. and so my goal for this week is to laugh deeply.

to laugh deeply, and love deeply, and live outwards in all directions at once. (that's not too overwhelming a goal for this thanksgiving week, is it?). nah, didn't think so.